


One Crazy Bastard

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-16
Updated: 2006-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for someone's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Crazy Bastard

Patrick has been in this band, properly, for maybe a couple of years. He has already come to the deeply convinced conclusion that Peter Wentz is crazy.

Not weird.

Not eccentric.

 _Crazy._

He has seen Pete do some stuff, and more than 99% of them were either very hazardous or very dangerous or _both_. And Pete has the gall to try get Patrick to join in. No fucking way, man.

"I said, no fucking _way_ ," Patrick says, struggling with Pete as Pete tries to blindfold him so he can skateboard down the street. From a rickety ramp. That leads off the roof.

"But I've _seen_ you! You can skateboard real good!" Pete declares and Patrick punches him in the stomach. Pete goes down, gasping and laughing, crumpling on the lawn of his own house. Pete might be crazy, but Patrick isn't stark-raving mad.

He is afraid that it might be contagious, though.

Pete also is the type of person who is highly amused not only by putting his friends in mortal peril, but by shredding-machines.

Because he likes to make confetti.

For, as Patrick keeps saying to himself, Peter Wentz is one crazy bastard.

" _Why_ are we making confetti?" Patrick asks tiredly, helping Pete to turn the paper when it shreds one way so that it rips again in the opposite direction, making small white squares of paper. They are in Pete's father's office, Pete giggling helplessly; he looks at Patrick, dark eyes highly amused.

"You never know," Pete responds with great gravity, putting the little bits of paper in a garbage bag, "when you might need things like this for a party."

Patrick ponders this and slaps him upside the back of the head. They have wasted a whole afternoon on a strange whim. Patrick fears there will be many more days like this, and fears for his sanity.

And in this process of fearing for his mental stability, he tries hard to hide his date of birth, because Pete is the kind of friend that you don't want have knowing your birthday. Not if you want the dudes with the straightjacket to leave your house alone. And Patrick thinks its going pretty good, when the day finally rolls around. No dousing with the hose and flouring right after. No raw fish in his guitar.

Its all going pretty sweetly and he's lying in his bed, his eighteenth birthday almost over, and a sweet little tour starting tomorrow, when Pete clambers in through the window. Patrick tries to move quickly but being mad, Pete is eerily faster and it ends up with him sitting on Patrick's stomach, grinning down in his face as Patrick tries to buck him off.

Pete grasps both of Patrick's wrists in one of his hands, reaching into his jacket pocket and Patrick wonders just how many eggs one madman can carry in his hoodie, when Pete takes out his fist and sprinkles confetti over his head.

"Happy biiiirrtthhdayy to yooooouuu," he sings, a little offf-key but not so bad. Patrick stares at him as the tiny bits of paper flutter around his face. Absolutely _insane_. Pete lets him go, and fishes around in his other pocket, still singing as he comes out with a small green plush toy, a little laughing leprechaun with the word PATRICK printed on its snazzy green shirt, obviously a left-over from all the St. Patrick's Day rowdiness, and even crazier, Pete leans forward and kisses him, a loud smack on the mouth and sets the leprechaun on his chest.

He jumps up off Patrick, grins in a surprisingly sweet way, and climbs back out the window.

Just.  What an _ass_.

Pete Wentz is _crazy_ , Patrick affirms to himself, smiling slowly at the little grinning toy on his chest, and then brushing the confetti out of his hair. But at least its a crazy that _grows_ on you.


End file.
